


do pirate androids dream of electric ships?

by alternate_me



Category: Black Sails, Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Detroit Become Human AU, Flint as an android, Long, M/M, Multi, NOT A BLADE RUNNER AU (I just thought the name was funny sorry), but also fluff, probable angst at some point, silverflint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29747085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternate_me/pseuds/alternate_me
Summary: The year is 2038, android technology is a reality, and the deviants' threat grows closer by the day. To put an end to the issue, Flint - you know, the android sent by CyberLife - has to work with Lieutenant John Silver, a very human and less than sympathetic detective.Figuring out how to stop deviants, however, is not the only thing Flint has to work on, as he keeps having strange visions of a man and a woman he seems to know nothing about.
Relationships: Anne Bonny/"Calico" Jack Rackham, Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton
Comments: 13
Kudos: 17





	1. strange pairs

**Author's Note:**

> Two weeks ago I started playing Detroit Become Human. After having played through the whole narrative three times and fallen in love with some of its characters, I proudly present to you a Black Sails fic set in a DBH AU. who could’ve seen this coming uh? It’s not like I think constantly about Black Sails and insert the characters into every new piece of media I fall in love with, _certainly_ not that. 
> 
> The plan here is to write a longer fic than the ones I usually write, so let’s see how that plays out. I’m going to briefly explain some things about the DBH universe, as I don’t know whether it’s common for both fandoms to overlap. If you’re familiar with DBH, you can skip the rest of the notes.
> 
> So, important things to know about DBH. It takes place in Detroit, in 2038 – and so will this story – when androids are a thing that exists – created and commercialized for the most various purposes. However, they are starting to gain conscience and some of them acquire free will – these androids are called deviants and are interpreted as a kind of malfunction that needs solving. One of the storylines of the game follows an android detective, Connor, – which is going to be Flint here :) – and his human partner as they try to solve and stop the deviants’ uprising. So yeah, that’s basically what you need to know for now.
> 
> Oh, one more thing, Connor has a mind palace of some sort where he talks to his superiors at CyberLife (aka the company that makes the androids) about his mission. The beginning of this chapter is Android!Flint’s equivalent to this.

He was standing on the deck of a ship, a man-of-war, to be precise - although why that information was on his database, he couldn’t say. British colors flew proudly from its masts. The weather was clear, no clouds in the impossibly blue sky; a gentle wind carried the known smell of salt from the deep blue sea which stretched in all directions. There was no land in sight. 

It was always the same ship, and the weather changed ever so slightly that a less cautious observer would say it did not change at all. He wondered why that scenario had been the one chosen for him. Not that it was relevant; it was soothing – and that was its purpose. But he still wondered.

There was no one in sight, and he knew then, instinctively, that Hennessey was waiting for him in the captain’s cabin. He opened the double doors that led to the large room, decorated with furniture he estimated was from the XVII century, and found the man he was so familiar with sitting on the captain’s chair. 

Hennessey was wearing a British Navy uniform from the same period as the furniture and had a large book in front of him which looked like a ship’s log. He browsed through its contents, his hands almost as white as the paper itself.

He ran his eyes through the familiar items in the room, stopping for a fraction of time on a shelf with books he wasn’t entirely sure had always been there. Then Hennessey cleared his throat and his eyes jolted back to him. 

“Good morning, Flint” the older man said, cordially “I called you here just to be certain you have no doubts about your mission”

“No, sir, I have no doubts” Flint answered, hands folded politely behind his back. Then, he stated his orders “I must find the reason why there have been an increasing number of deviants in Detroit and put an end to it” he said firmly and almost automatically. 

“Good” Hennessey said, idly skimming through the pages of the log “I don’t have to remind you that it is of vast importance that you succeed as quickly as possible. These deviants must be stopped, and you are our best chance of achieving this end”

“I will do everything in my power to complete this mission, sir. You don’t have to worry about it” 

As Hennessey nodded in approval, Flint’s eyes fell upon the log, noticing there was a missing page in the middle of it. He frowned, not knowing why a torn page would suddenly make him unsettled. Then he turned his head back to the shelf on his right, towards the books it held. There was something wrong about the books, although he couldn’t specify what it was – and that uncertainty bothered him, his programming urging him to figure out the source of the instability it identified.

“Have you been assigned a partner to work with?” his superior’s voice was suddenly distorted, some of the words cut short. 

Flint frowned, looking back and finding a glinting image of Hennessey. It was apparently talking to him, but he could hear no words. He sensed his software instability raising as he moved forward, worried. That sensation of wrongness was all around him now.

“What’s the matter?” the figure that once was Hennessey asked him, voice twisted and slower. 

Now, all that remained of him was a vague shape filled with flickering lights and static. 

“I feel something is not right” Flint said, even though he knew it was unnecessary to make this remark at a formless shape which should obviously not be there. 

Then an image started to appear slowly where Hennessey had been, and, although there were still glitches, Flint could distinguish the face of a middle-aged white woman. Dark hair pulled up, thin smile on her lips, fierce look on her eyes. 

“Tell me more about how you feel, James” she said, the voice now clear and completely different from Hennessey’s.

Flint’s frown got more accentuated.

“I’m afraid I’m not the one you’re looking for. My name is Flint” he said, now extremely bothered with an urge to get out of there “I’m the RK800 prototype designed by CyberLife. Who are you, madam?”

The woman’s eyes looked sad then, almost pitiful. There was a brief silence before Flint spoke again.

“What are you doing here? Where is Hennessey?” he insisted.

“Taking a temporary break, love” she answered.

The image glitched again, and the woman vanished, only to appear seconds later in front of Flint, making him step back in a reflex.

“I thought this would be a smart move, maybe I was wrong” she said, tilting her head to the side as she advanced towards him. 

Although his analytical program told Flint the best option at his disposal was running, he realized he could not move. The woman stretched her arm towards him, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the gentle touch that followed as her hand cupped the side of his face. 

He opened his eyes again, meeting the woman’s piercing ones. There was a feeling of static where she touched his skin. Nothing made sense.

“I need to talk to James. See if you can find him for me, will you?” her image glitched again, and then she was suddenly and completely gone, leaving him alone in the cabin. 

Flint’s software was uneasy as he looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening and utterly failing. He stopped in the middle of the room, trying to concentrate. Then he closed his eyes, and, when he opened them again, the cabin was gone – along with the ship, the sea and the blue sky. 

He was back in the interior of the cab that made its way to the Detroit City Police Department. The weather was cloudy, with a 54% chance of rain later in the afternoon.

* * *

For the first time that day, John Silver thought he shouldn’t have got out of bed. 

It wouldn’t be the last.

The central station police captain, Eleanor Guthrie, was sitting at her desk, hands on her lap, waiting for Silver’s reaction to having just told him what his next assignment was. He knew she was ready to counter every complaint he had, and he wondered whether it was worth his energy at all. 

“Investigate deviants…” he repeated, his voice coming out surprisingly calmer than he’d expected “While working with an android”

“Great, you seem to have understood the core of my message” Eleanor said, a faint sarcasm on her voice. She was still waiting for the complaint. 

“An android who’s a _detective_?” he insisted, mock evident on his tone.

“Precisely. State of the art technology, it’s what I’ve been told. I’m sure it will make for an at least satisfying partner” she interlaced her fingers, resting her elbows on the glass table.

“Oh, me too. What I’m not sure is why you’d think I am the most qualified _human_ for the job” he said, only then noticing he’d been unconsciously rubbing his left thigh. He stopped it abruptly, and Eleanor seemed to notice. 

She changed her approach.

“You and I know ourselves for years, now, Lieutenant. So please, say what needs saying. Get it out of your chest so we can go on and do our fucking jobs without any resentments”

Silver scoffed and moved forward, as though he was going to get up and leave. But then he stopped himself and looked at Eleanor, deciding to indulge her.

“You _know_ I don’t nurture any love for these plastic things, and you’re forcing me to work with one” he said now, eyes closed and voice raised “Why can’t, I don’t know, Billy have this assignment”

“First of all, this is not how this works. And second, Billy already has a mission and I for one do think you’re the most qualified man for this job”

“ _Bullshit_ ” he stood up then “For fuck’s sake, Eleanor, no one wants this mission and you, what, thinks it will be good for me? Are you doing this out of _pity_?”

She sighed loudly then. He could see she was mustering every ounce of restraint she had not to get up too.

“Silver, I’m just doing my job, and part of it is assuring that you do yours. If you have any personal shit you need to get sorted, I’ll be happy to recommend you to my own therapist” she said, voice raising slightly, but maintaining her posture. Maybe therapy was _indeed_ working for her.

As Silver didn’t make any mention of answering that last comment, Eleanor carried on.

“You were one of our top detectives for years, John. Hell, the best one” he could identify her voice tending to a more placating tone. He knew, then, that the conversation was over “I trust and admire the work you do and have done here, or I’d honestly have already told you to fuck off”

Then she stopped herself when she noticed she was getting carried away. She smiled.

“I’m sure you will do a great job”

Silver thought that was much more terrifying than pre-anger management Eleanor. 

“Fine. I’ll do the job” he said, as she still waited for a response. 

Then he turned away and slammed the office door – to illustrate it _wasn’t_ actually fine. It was a childish act, he knew, but Eleanor held all the cards and that was all he could do at the moment – which made him feel frustrated and a bit worthless. 

When he arrived back at his desk - still reconciling himself with the fact he would have to work on that assignment -, to his surprise, he found it was not empty. There was a man standing next to it, as if waiting for him.

He looked roughly the same age as Silver, although much more in shape than he. His beard and hair were ginger, and the top layers of his hair were tied neatly behind his head. He was also astonishingly handsome.

Then the man turned his head towards him, and Silver saw the blue light of the LED on his temple. 

_Shit_. 

That was the second time that day John wished he had stayed in bed.

“Lieutenant Silver?” the android asked.

“Yes” he grunted, passing by its side and sitting at his desk.

“My name is Flint” it said “I’m the android sent by CyberLife to be your partner on the ongoing deviant investigation”

“Yes, I’ve just been briefed on the matter” 

“Excellent” the android said. 

Then it proceeded to wait with its hands politely placed behind its back in a perfect and rigid posture. Silver sighed. He really wished that had happened on a day when he had had more than four hours of sleep, or when his leg wasn’t bothering him – which basically excluded the last four years of his life and all of his foreseeable future. 

“Should we start working then?” it said, slighted inclined towards Silver, eyes disturbingly intense. 

Maybe he needed a vacation. Or maybe he just needed a healthier lifestyle. Probably both. In any way, he needed sunbathing, the sole aspect of his skin attested the last time it had seen the sun was when Twitter was still a thing.

“Any idea where we could start our investigation?” 

Silver blinked, raising his eyes at Flint, distracted and already utterly bored.

“Uh- yeah” he paused, thinking “I suppose you can sit there and access the deviants’ cases registered on the system” he pointed at the empty desk beside his.

“Alright” Flint said, circling the desk and sitting on the chair.

Last time Silver had ventured on checking the deviants’ cases, it was already an endless thread of reports. That would keep the android busy for at least a while so he could take that moment to breathe.

As Flint reached its arm to access the computer, Silver noticed as its skin retracted from the far end of its hand, exposing the white plastic Silver knew composed all androids. John hadn’t lied when he said he wasn’t the most qualified man for the job. Besides a bitter disposition towards androids, he didn’t know much about how they worked, what their functions were and the technology behind it. He was a walking millennial stereotype of which he was certain kids those days made memes about – that is, if memes were still a thing, which he hoped they were.

Silver’s eyes then moved on to observe Flint’s gray jacket, which bore its model – RK800 - and serial number, besides the blue rectangle and armband which identified that “person” as an android. Then he moved to its face and his first impression was confirmed: whoever had designed its appearance had been very generous. People simply didn’t look like that.

“Lieutenant Silver, is there something wrong?” it was only then Silver realized the android was staring at him.

John cleared his throat.

“Uh- no. Nothing. I’m just not used to androids, is all. I was… observing” he completed, pushing his chair back and reaching for his bag.

“Well, I can answer any doubts you have about androids” 

“No, it’s fine. You can go back to work” Silver said, fumbling around inside the bag in search of his bottle of painkillers. The fucking leg had started hurting again.

“I’ve already read and downloaded all 237 deviants’ cases listed on the system. The first one dates back nine months”

“Jesus Christ” Silver said, as all of his hopes of taking a break seemed to be taken away from him “You really are all work no play, uh?” 

It didn’t seem to get the expression. Or the expression hadn’t worked towards softening its stern expression. Maybe that model didn’t come with smile muscles. 

After a while, Silver finally found the bottle of painkillers. He popped it open and ingested some pills. Then he noticed as the android turned its head towards him again.

“What now?”

“What are the pills for?” it asked bluntly.

There was a short silence.

“What is it to you?” John asked, sounding more defensive than he’d wished to.

“Well, I was just trying to start a conversation. I understand this is how humans get close to one another, and I thought this might be useful on the mission” it paused and then added “As we are now partners” 

Silver wondered whom he had angered to deserve this.

“Listen, I wouldn’t exactly call ourselves that. We’re as much partners as I can be partners with my cellphone” and, as it seemed to be expecting a conclusion, John completed “Which is not at all”

“I see” it looked pensive, its head down, LED shining yellow “Lieutenant, there’s one more thing I feel I must inform you, in case it was a mistake” it said, after a few seconds of consideration “You’ve just ingested a much larger dose of your medication than it is recommended”

Silver felt his blood boiling at that comment.

“You know, Flint, maybe you need to get your social skills software checked” he snapped, passing the back of his hand on his forehead “Because this is not how you carry out a conversation”

He waited for the android to recoil at the comment. But instead it simply said “Noted”, and Silver felt an urgent need to punch it. Instead, he sighed. Maybe getting Eleanor’s therapist contact wasn’t a bad idea after all.

“Look, can you give me five minutes? It’s all I ask, then you can bother me with anything about this fucking mission” Silver said.

“Yes” it responded, going abruptly silent, but still staring at Silver.

“Not- not _here_. I don’t know, go out, grab some air or something”

“Oh, okay, got it” Flint said and got up immediately, apparently moving towards the break room.

John sighed in relief, rubbing his temples. He didn’t know how much time had passed till he heard someone shouting his name from the entrance, but it felt like mere seconds.

“Silver!”

Third time. Third time that day when John thought of being in bed, petting his cat, unbothered by any of what the universe apparently held against him.

“Hey, Billy” John said, as the tall and strong man advanced fast across the room “What’s up?” 

“Nothing really” Billy said, stopping in front of Silver’s desk and smiling slightly. Sometimes Silver forgot how tall he actually was “Uh- that haircut looks good on you, by the way” 

Silver thought of saying that it was the _lack_ of a haircut, as his curls hadn’t seen scissors in over a year, and his hair was now longer than he’d ever remembered it being. Instead, he just said 'Thanks'.

“Hey, I’ve heard you got the deviants’ case-”

“Already, uh. Guess Eleanor was more certain that she would convince me than I thought”

“We both know that with Eleanor it’s more about accepting than being convinced” he said, and Silver nodded in silent agreement. 

“I’ve also heard you’ll have an _unusual_ partner”

“It seems to me that you hear a lot of things, Billy”

Billy chuckled.

“Listen, John. I don’t want to be a bother, I’m just-“

That was the moment Flint came back from the break room, bringing a cup of coffee on its hand. Silver didn’t mind checking his watch, but if he had to take a guess, he’d say it had been exactly five minutes since it had left its desk.

Billy noticed the LED and the other android identifiers quicker than he had.

“God, it’s already here” Billy said “Never thought I’d see the day when androids would start taking our jobs as well” then he noticed the cup on its hand “Are you like an upgrade or something? I’ve never seen androids drinking or eating anything”

“Well, yes, I am an upgrade - a prototype. But no, I cannot eat or drink” it specified promptly “This is for Lieutenant Silver” it addressed John directly then “I’ve noticed you’ve got some deep dark circles beneath your eyes, Lieutenant, and your expression looks tired. I thought maybe this would help”

Silver couldn’t decide whether that was an incredibly kind gesture or an alternative way the android had found of telling him he looked like shit. That said, the coffee was appreciated, and Silver accepted it with a small nod of gratitude.

Billy chucked again.

“Man, I mean, you’ve got to admire these sons of bitches’ work. He’s already kissing ass on his first day. You’ll make a great detective one day, son”

The android seemed extremely confused at that sentence, and Silver was almost sure it was because of the 'kissing ass' part of it. Before he could ask anything, Silver decided it was enough. 

“Billy, is there anything else?” he intervened “Are you jealous of androids now?” he added after a moment of consideration.

At that comment, Billy’s head snapped back at Silver. John thought that maybe he should feel bad about making that comment, but he didn’t, so he just held his stare unapologetically. 

“You know what, sometimes I forget how fucking annoying and presumptuous you are”

“Such big words for so early in the morning”

“Fuck you, John” Billy said, and moved past Flint, deliberately bumping into it.

Flint waited for Billy to disappear from the room to say anything.

“Considering I lack social skills, sir, do you think it would be wise to start using the sensible approach you have on this area?” once again, Silver asked himself whether Flint was being serious or just reading him to filth – an attitude he surprisingly found himself appreciating. 

Maybe the android wasn’t so bad after all. Annoying, sure. But he’d dealt with worse. 

“So, Flint, is it?” he said “I’m in a sudden need for fresh air myself. Maybe we can investigate one of these many – _many_ \- reports you’ve mentioned. As you seem to be a faster reader than I, you can brief me on the way”

“Which case would you like to start with, Lieutenant” Flint asked.

“Oh, you know, I trust the wonders of modern technology” Silver said, grabbing his coat on the way out and making sure he was taking the pills with him, as he felt that day was a wonder that would keep on giving “What I mean is ‘surprise me’”


	2. I recognize you. You recognize me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint and Lieutenant John Silver have been working together for a week. To their frustration, however, none of the reports they've followed have led to a significant development on the deviants' case. 
> 
> But that is about to change as they investigate an attempted murder whose culprit is an android named Anne Bonny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys,
> 
> So, I really wanted to post Chapter Two sooner - I'm aware it's been two weeks since the first one -, but it ended up being a bit longer than I first intended it to be. Hopefully, the next ones won't take me that long to write :) 
> 
> Also, I _loved_ reading your comments on Chapter One, so thank you <3
> 
> That's it. Hope you guys enjoy the second chapter.

It didn’t rain on the day Flint met Lieutenant John Silver despite the 54% chance suggesting otherwise. The rain would only come in the following morning, and it would persist for the rest of the week. 

On Flint’s man-of-war, however, it was always sunny. 

As he’d done for the previous days, on that morning Flint met Hennessey in the captain’s cabin. He was looking at the endless ocean through the large window in the back of the room. When Flint opened the double doors, his superior greeted him, but did not turn around. 

Flint approached Hennessey slowly, allowing his eyes to wander the room. They stopped for a moment on the shelf attached to the wall on his right - the one which held the books. He confirmed they weren’t the same books he’d seen the last time he was there. During the past week, Flint had noticed that the books seemed to change every time, following no apparent pattern. All except one, which appeared to remain the same - although Flint couldn’t tell what it was about, as it had no title on its red leathery spine. 

Then Flint’s eyes made their usual path to the main table and to the log that still sat there – open on the same pages, still exhibiting the missing one in the middle. His investigative software started posing questions to that unsolved mystery – as what its contents were, and why it had been torn. And, at last, whether it contained information on that James person the unknown woman had told him about.

“You seem unfocused, RK800.”

The voice startled him, and he promptly abandoned his present line of thought, bringing his eyes to the window. Hennessey had turned to face him. He looked disappointed.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he simply said, not trying to hide the guilt in his tone. 

He knew Hennessey was right. His attention and focus during the mission reports had been lacking.

The dark-haired woman hadn’t appeared anymore; there had been no more glitches or static. However, the instability Flint had first identified in her presence – that sensation of wrongness – had never left the cabin. It was as if, somehow, the woman was still there. 

Except she wasn’t. And the failure of pinpointing the source of his persisting uneasiness in her absence upset Flint.

It couldn’t be such small details as books and logs – even if the books in question were ever-changing, and the log had a torn page. It certainly wasn’t a single manifestation, easily categorized as a temporary malfunction that would never happen again – which he was 93% sure was the case of the strange woman.

But those were all the things he could think of when trying to explain why he’d been so absentminded while addressing Hennessey. And they were such insignificant things compared to the importance of his mission that, even though theoretically he _should_ report on the glitch he’d experienced, he hadn’t done so for the previous week - nor he did it on that morning. 

Instead, after apologizing, Flint silently reminded himself that the mission should be occupying all his processing units. Then he proceeded to report the latest developments of the deviants’ case. 

After he recounted the cases they had looked into on the previous day – a SQ800 named Teach and an AX700 named Reed, who had both left no trail to be followed –, Hennessey seemed to be growing out of patience. It wasn’t that Hennessey wasn’t an understanding man, it was that all thirteen cases Flint and Lieutenant Silver had investigated that week had come to the same conclusion.

“I do not need to remind you what is at stake here,” Hennessey said after Flint had finished his report. 

“No, sir, you do not. I understand the importance of the situation and apologize for my lack of success. I believe today will bear better results. A new case was reported only a few hours ago, and it looks promising.”

At that remark, Hennessey’s expression seemed to soften slightly.

“I believe in you, son,” he said, sighing and heading to the captain’s chair. He sat down, his hand holding his chin, pensive. “For the sake of our futures, Flint, I hope you’re right.”

“I will not disappoint you, sir.”

Flint considered the report to be over, and was about to head back, when Hennessey posed him a question he hadn’t asked before.

“Tell me, before you go, how has it been to work with Lieutenant Silver?”

Flint stopped himself, considering the question for a moment.

“It’s been challenging,” Flint started, “Lieutenant Silver is still frustrated about having to work with an android.”

That was oversimplifying it.

Lieutenant Silver had a deep personal issue with androids he refused to talk about. That was proving to be a trying obstacle to the development of an amiable relationship between them. He was also incredibly secretive about his past and personal life, and the only thing Flint knew about that was that he owned a cat named Betsy. However, he would show pictures of her to literally anyone – once to a random woman in an elevator, who was herself holding a cat –, so Flint wasn’t sure that counted as _significant_ progress. 

As if those weren’t enough to make for a difficult partner, there was the matter of Silver’s issue with painkillers.

As Flint had correctly analyzed the first moment he laid eyes on him, based on the way he walked and distributed his weight, the Lieutenant’s left leg was a prosthetic. Adding the occasional wincing and erratically use of medication, he had concluded Silver suffered from chronic pain – probably due to his limb loss - and was addicted to narcotics. 

So, yes, _challenging_ was putting it mildly. 

“You need to remind yourself of what is really important here, son,” Hennessey said tactfully, “Working with Lieutenant Silver is an important part of your mission. However, he isn’t irreplaceable. You must make sure his personal issues won’t jeopardize the progress of your assignment.”

“I don’t believe that to be the case, sir,” Flint said, and really meant it. Although it wasn’t always easy working with the Lieutenant, he was certain their lack of results hadn’t been influenced by their troubled relationship. “I really think I can make the Lieutenant more receptive to my assistance. I believe I’ve already made progress on that matter.” 

It was an extremely slow progress, which - as a subtle weather variation - could go by undetected. However, Flint was a careful observer – it was on his programming, after all. So he’d noticed when the Lieutenant started sharing and commenting on case related matters more naturally – lately he would even try and make jokes.

Flint was satisfied at this small but pleasant development and would try and make his own contributions towards improving the Lieutenant’s mood. One tactic he’d successfully implemented was getting a cup of coffee for Silver every morning – as he’d noticed the slight signs of appreciation for that gesture when he’d done so on the day they met. 

“Good. But keep it in mind: all that matters is the mission. So, if the Lieutenant isn’t impairing its progress, it’s futile to worry about how he perceives you.”

Flint took another moment to consider that new statement.

“Yes, sir,” he said. And then, as Hennessey seemed to be waiting for him to say something else, he complemented, “You don’t need to worry, my focus is entirely on the mission.”

It was the truth. However, what he deliberately failed to mention to Hennessey was that he considered improving his relationship with the Lieutenant to be a part of the mission. He also saw no need to inform exactly how many hours he’d spent analyzing ways of achieving that goal – it had been a considerable amount of them. 

It had become abundantly clear to Flint that humans - and Silver in particular – were much more complex and intriguing than he had first expected. So naturally he realized he’d have to invest more effort if he intended on succeeding on that part of the mission. 

Fortunately, his software loved a challenging puzzle.

* * *

As soon as the mission report ended, Flint was back on the passenger seat of Lieutenant Silver’s car. The sky was a dark shade of gray, as the first morning light appeared shyly, barely illuminating through the heavy looking clouds. The rain insistently poured on the windshield, its sound against the roof of the car surprisingly soothing, and the steamy coffee he’d brought to the Lieutenant seemed to agree with all of it. Maybe he liked rainy days. 

“Where were you?” Silver’s voice startled him, bringing his attention back to the moment. 

Flint turned his head towards him, blinking in confusion, and found the Lieutenant staring at him. Silver had the top layers of his long curly hair messily tied behind his head, the usual dark circles under his eyes were slightly deeper and his expression was simply tired. He was obviously not an early bird.

“It was as if you were gone for a moment,” he continued, “You were staring at nowhere and then blinking, and your _thingy_ became yellow.” He pointed at his own temple as to indicate Flint’s LED.

“Oh,” Flint said, “I was merely reporting on our progress with the case”

“That easy, uh?” Silver said, bringing his eyes back to the road as the traffic light turned green. He hit the gas pedal, and they were once again moving towards the address Flint had provided him. “I would love not needing to actually write those things down.”

“Jealous of a plastic man, Lieutenant?” Flint said, keeping his voice serious. 

“You’re getting better at snarky comments, tin man,” Silver sighed, taking a sip of his black coffee.

“I simply observe and incorporate the actions of those around me,” he replied. A slight smile appeared on the Lieutenant’s face, and Flint was instantly proud for making John Silver smile so early in the morning.

“So, what did you take me out of bed for?” Silver asked, rubbing his left eye. “I hope it’s _at least_ a murder.”

“It is not a murder,” Flint proclaimed, and Silver let out a disappointed noise, “It is, however, an _attempted_ murder, which was reported at 2:45 am” 

“Well, at least it’s finally something promising,” John commented, “If I had to endure another month-old missing android report, I’m not sure I would last through the day.”

“The victim's name is James Bonny, he’s a lawyer at Bonny & Ashe,” Flint carried on, “He’s informed the DPD that his android – a BL100 – became deviant and attacked him with a kitchen knife, proceeding to flee his apartment. The deviant is currently missing”

Silver considered the information for a moment.

“What’s a BL-?” he started asking, but was interrupted when his phone buzzed.

He at once stretched his hand to take it, but Flint was faster.

“You’re driving. It’s raining. You’ve clearly not had enough hours of sleep” Flint stated, holding the phone safely in his hands.

Silver grunted.

“You sound like my mom,” he said, and Flint frowned, asking himself whether that was a good or a bad thing. He was still getting used to human expressions. “Or worse, Billy.” A bad thing then.

Flint had seen Detective Bones around the precinct several times during the previous week. Although he hadn’t talked to him again, Flint had noticed that Silver became rapidly annoyed in Billy’s presence, and the opposite seemed to be true as well. 

“Lieutenant, may I ask a personal question?”

Silver raised an eyebrow and turned to him. He looked cautious, but also slightly curious.

“Sure, ask away.”

“Why is it that you appear to dislike Detective Bones?”

Silver laughed. 

“I don’t _dislike_ him. I mean, he’s fine,” he said, but Flint noticed he was suddenly avoiding eye contact. The car came to a stop in another red light, and Silver took the moment to grab his phone from Flint’s hand and put it in his pocket, not bothering to check the screen.

“Your mood and manners around him seem to suggest otherwise,” Flint stated.

“Have you been analyzing me?” Silver’s eyes turned back to Flint. And if he hadn’t been watching the Lieutenant for a week, he wouldn’t have been able to catch the subtle amusement in the corner of his lips.

“It is what I’m programmed to do.” 

Silver scoffed.

“You’re programmed to analyze crime scenes. I’m not a crime scene – yet, at least,” he said, “The thing with me and Billy is just that we disagree on certain topics,” he continued, as Flint kept staring at him, “For instance, three months ago, while he considered there was still something worth salvaging in our relationship, I thought said relationship was already dead and in need of a burial. He didn’t take it so keenly.”

There was a moment of silence.

“ _Oh_ ,” Flint said, processing what Silver had just told him.

Then he grinned. And Silver noticed it.

“Hey, what was _that_?” he asked, making a vague motion with one of his hands towards Flint.

“What was what?” Flint asked, still smiling.

“ _That_ ,” he pointed at his face, “That fucking smile.”

Then Flint felt as the smile disappeared from his lips. He frowned, confused.

“Well, I’m equipped to smiling as the lack of doing so apparently may unease interviewed suspects and witnesses-”

“And co-workers, yeah,” Silver completed, “But I was honestly starting to think you weren’t programmed to do so. I mean, I’ve been my usual charismatic self for a week, and have been deliberately trying to make jokes for the past three days, and all I’ve gotten out of you was the same annoying face.”

“Wait a moment, do you think my face is annoying?”, Flint exclaimed, sounding a bit hurt. His face had been especially designed to be aesthetically pleasing to humans.

“Yes, but let’s not change subjects. I want to know why the fact that Billy and I used to date was what made you finally express a slight human reaction,” Silver continued, “I mean, should I consider that homophobic?” He added, more to himself then than to Flint. “Are all androids secretly homophobes?”

“No, it’s not that.” Flint felt as he smiled again – that was getting out of hand. “I was just surprised, because, despite it being an explanation my software had suggested, it wasn’t the most probable one. I think you just don’t seem much compatible.”

“Well, I guess the joke’s on me then, should’ve searched for someone more _compatible_.”

“Precisely,” Flint agreed, only a moment too late realizing there had been slight annoyance on Silver’s comment.

“It’s a pity you weren’t around back then, apparently you could have saved me a lot of hurt with that big know-it-all brain of yours,” Silver snapped at him.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. It wasn’t my intention to be indiscreet nor to offend you in any way. I’ll focus on the mission from now on,” Flint finally said, sensing his software growing unstable when he concluded he shouldn’t have meddled that much in Silver’s personal life. 

_All that matters is the mission_ , he reminded himself.

Silver opened his mouth as to say something, but then closed it again. They had arrived at the address Flint had given him, so he slowed the car down, parking it by the sidewalk.

Drinking what was left of his coffee, Silver opened the door and got out. He pulled his coat over his head as he walked fast towards the entrance of the building. Flint slowly followed him, holding a black umbrella.

The building in question was a residential skyscraper which could easily house some of the richest people in Detroit. They walked towards the reception counter and identified themselves to the android that stood there. Silver showed her his badge, and Flint shared his credentials. The android nodded and informed they should proceed to floor 89. 

Apart from a couple of officers in the lobby, the police presence on the ground floor was scarce. They walked towards the elevators in silence, meeting another officer on the way whom Silver greeted. 

As the elevator doors began to close, they heard a young woman shout to them to hold it. Flint kept his hand in one of the doors as she ran to get inside. 

“Thank you,” she said, panting. Then she pressed the numbers six and seven on the elevator panel.

Flint’s head moved to Lieutenant Silver as he heard him opening his bottle of painkillers. It was a sound he was used to by then. Flint watched as he took three – _three!_ – pills at once.

“What is it?” Silver asked, noticing his inquiring eyes.

“Nothing of notice, Lieutenant,” he responded, realizing it wouldn’t be wise to bring up the subject then, as he didn’t want to upset Silver more than he already was. So Flint quickly averted his eyes to the other side, where the woman stood.

Except the woman who’d entered the elevator with them had short black hair and a darker skin tone, but the woman who stood by his side then was a white woman, long dark-brown hair held up in a bun. Not only that, but he knew that woman, she was the one who’d appeared to him on his man-of-war. 

He frowned, turning towards Silver in order to ask him whether he was seeing her as well. To his surprise, the Lieutenant was nowhere to be found. He and the woman were the only ones in the elevator. 

He watched as he scanned her without even intending to do so. The results appeared in his line of vision. 

**BARLOW, MIRANDA  
Born: 11/06/2008 // Current employee of CyberLife**

He looked at the elevator panel and found it slightly changed as well. The colors and design were wrong. It was as if he was entirely in another place. The first thing he thought of was that it should be a memory. However, it was unlike any memory he’d ever revisited, and it was being forced upon him. 

Flint tried to break stance and ask the woman what was happening, but he noticed his mouth was irresponsive. He felt his software instability rising as he realized he was trapped, as though his body belonged to someone else, and he was merely watching the events occur before him. 

He wanted to make it stop, but he couldn’t. The scene continued unfolding.

Flint watched as he raised his own hand and pressed number 67 on the panel. He gave the woman another look. She was wearing fancy clothes, as though she was going to a party. However, her makeup was blurred, her hair was messy, so it was more likely she was coming back from one.

“Floor 67, uh?” she asked, and Flint confirmed it was the same soft voice that had told him _‘I need to talk to James’_. “Are you going to see Thomas?” she continued.

“I am, yes,” he heard his own voice answering, except it didn’t sound exactly as it should. “Do you happen to know him?”

“You could say that, yes,” she answered, an easy smile spreading across her lips. “We’ve known each other since we were toddlers. I guess I’m what you could call his life-long companion, but don’t tell him I said that.”

There was a moment of silence as he moved his head away from the woman, feeling she still watched him. She had such a light smile, but her eyes were heavy and piercing. He sensed they could see right through him, to know all there was to be known with just one look. 

It was unsettling, but also inexplicably alluring, as though that woman had her own gravitational pull. 

“You’re that new model, right?” He turned towards her again and saw as she pointed at his jacket, where his model was printed. “Did Alfred Hamilton send you?”

“Yes, madam.”

“Figured. Thomas told me he was about to start working on a project for his father, but I didn’t know it was that important as to CyberLife spare an all new RK700 towards that end.” 

Flint was about to try and tell her she was wrong, he was a RK800 – and, to his knowledge, there had never been a RK700. But then she started speaking again.

“You know, I’ve worked on your software, perfecting your ability in conversations and general person-to-person interactions. It’s amazing to see it all in practice. To be honest, I didn’t even know the RK700 had been finished – nor had I seen the end results,” she smiled playfully. “I must remember to commend the guys down at Body and Face Design.”

He had no time to respond to all that new information – and flirting – as the elevator came to a stop on floor 67. The doors opened.

“Well, I guess that’s you,” she said, holding the door.

Flint got out of the elevator and turned around.

“It was nice knowing you, madam,” he heard himself saying, politely. 

“You can call me Miranda. But I’m sure you already knew that, as I hope those scanners of yours are working. And it was nice knowing you too,” she added and then stopped herself. “I’m sorry, I’ve just realized you haven’t told me _your_ name.”

“It’s James. But I’d say you also knew it beforehand, madam.”

She threw him another smile. 

“Just checking those person-to-person interactions. I’m glad to see the witty comebacks are working fine.” 

As she let go of the elevator doors, she was still able to say one more thing before they closed. 

“Send Thomas my love, will you?”

* * *

That android was certainly broken.

Silver sighed as he thought whether they could hold him responsible if it had happened on his watch. He also thought he had no way of paying for whatever fixing Flint would cost – it should be a lot.

The facts were that when the elevator doors had opened on floor 89, Flint hadn’t moved. He stood there, staring at nothing as Silver held the doors for almost half a minute. Then he had tried calling him and tugging him, which had led to no results. He just looked frozen. 

He knew Flint would be weird sometimes, he’d been with the android for a week, but he’d never looked like this. Not even his LED color had changed, and still shone blue when it obviously should not. 

During the week, John had done a little research on androids to better understand what he was dealing with and had found out the LED on their temples changed colors according to their mental status – blue being stable, yellow being intermediate and red being profoundly distressed. John liked to think of it as he would approach traffic light logic.

Now, it had been almost three minutes, and John was starting to get deeply worried. If he had an LED, it would be spinning red.

“Flint? _Flint?_ ” He waved his arm in front of him. “Are you sending a mission report? You’re scaring me.”

John was considering calling one of the officers who stood outside James Bonny’s apartment. He didn’t even know what they would be able to do about it, but maybe they knew a little bit more about androids than he did – which wasn’t particularly difficult. He didn’t even know what the equivalent to calling 911 was for androids.

Then, just like that, Flint moved. He walked out of the elevator, turning around and waiting as a very distressed Silver looked at him in confusion.

“What the hell was that? Are you okay?” John said, finally letting the elevator doors close. 

“I’m not sure of what you are referring to,” Flint said.

“You were completely frozen for I don’t know how long. You wouldn’t move or answer me,” Silver said. Flint’s distant and collected response suddenly made him feel a bit stupid for having worried that much about a being that wasn’t even alive.

The LED on his temple shone yellow, and John knew then that there _had_ been something wrong. Maybe Flint was just considering whether to tell him.

“I’m sorry for having worried you, Lieutenant,” the android said when his LED turned back to blue, “Something unexpected happened while I was in the elevator. But I’ll self-test at the end of the day to make sure it won’t happen again.”

The android said that before resuming his walk towards the apartment. But Silver wasn’t done with him. He walked after Flint, wincing as he stepped in a funny way and a wave of pain ascended his left leg. 

“Hey, wait. What do you mean by ‘something unexpected’? What happened back there?”

“It’s nothing urgent, nor something you need to worry about. But, if you’re interested, I can talk about it later. Right now, we’ve got a mission to get to,” he said, stopping briefly before the open front door. 

Silver sighed in annoyance. Flint and his precious mission had been a recurring theme during that week.

“You know what? You don’t have to bother telling me,” John snapped, entering the apartment before Flint. 

There was nothing particularly surprising with what James Bonny’s apartment looked like. It was clean, the floors and the walls were colored with white or similar light shades and the furniture fit harmoniously together. John wouldn’t be able to describe most of its decoration or what it was made of, just that it looked like things he couldn’t afford.

The apartment owner, Mr. Bonny, was sitting in the living-room, on a sofa which stood in front of a very large television. He had a blanket covering his shoulders and looked like he’d seen better days. There were a couple of officers inside the apartment as well, but they were in the kitchen, analyzing possible clues.

The living-room, unlike the rest of the place, didn’t look like one would expect. Apart from the already marked clues, there were broken chairs and objects on the floor, and the sofa looked slightly out of place, as though it had been pushed. 

On the other side of the room, a striking splash of blood stood out on the white wall. Next to it, on the floor, there were red sprinkles staining a very fluffy-looking carpet, and a kitchen knife covered in blood. He looked again at James Bonny and realized he was holding his left shoulder, a slight grimace on his face. 

“Are you scanning the scene?” John asked Flint, who stood beside him in the entrance to the room.

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“Good, keep analyzing it. I’m going to have a chat with Mr. Bonny, and then we can see if his story matches what you were able to put together.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Flint said, moving forward to analyze one of the broken furniture more closely.

Silver walked towards Mr. Bonny, shaking his hand before sitting on the sofa beside his. He noticed that the man’s hands were slightly trembling, but apart from that he looked put together. 

“Good morning, Mr. Bonny,” he said, then regretted, because it was obvious no one in there was having a good morning. “I’m Lieutenant John Silver, the one over there is my partner, Flint. We’re going to be investigating your case,” he continued, pointing vaguely behind him, in Flint’s direction.

As James Bonny’s eyes followed his gesture, Silver watched as his expression went from neutral to confused and then disgusted.

“Is he-,” he started, not knowing how to continue, “Is he _licking the blood_ off that wall?”

Silver felt like laughing for a moment. _Of course_ his partner wasn’t licking blood off a fucking wall, that was ridiculous. 

Then he turned around, and Flint was doing exactly that.

“What _the fuck_ are you doing?” He said, leaping to his feet and grabbing Flint’s wrist before he could put more blood-stained fingers into his mouth.

“I’m analyzing the blood,” he said, as though John was asking a very dumb question, “I’m equipped to analyze samples in real time. Just now, I’ve confirmed this is James Bonny’s blood, and it was spilled about four hours ago.”

Flint waited as Silver looked at him in despair.

“A thank you would be nice,” Flint said, raising his eyebrows.

“A _thank you_ ,” John exclaimed. 

When had his life become a fucking buddy cop movie? 

“Look, you correctly analyzing the blood in real time won’t help if the victim thinks you’re a lunatic who likes to lick blood off walls. So, for God’s sake, don’t lick any more evidence, and wipe that blood stain off your lips,” he concluded, in a hushed scolding voice. 

He didn’t wait to see if Flint had obeyed him, making his way back to the sofa. He gave Mr. Bonny an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Bonny. As you can see, my partner is an android, and apparently, he’s equipped to analyze things like that,” he sighed, “I hope you’ve not been too distressed.”

“No, it’s fine. I was simply surprised,” he said, “Uh, I also didn’t know androids worked as police detectives.”

“He’s a new prototype,” Silver said – for the hundredth time that week –, “state of the art technology, so I’ve been told. You don’t need to worry about it, sir. You’re in good hands.”

Mr. Bonny nodded, briefly eyeing Flint with an unsure look on his face as John said that. 

“Could you answer a few questions for me, Mr. Bonny? Help me understand what happened here.” 

“Oh, sure, but it’s quite simple” Mr. Bonny said, bringing his attention back to Silver, “You see, since last year, I’ve been the proud owner of a BL100, although I’ve got used to calling her Anne – Anne Bonny.”

As he said those words, his voice was somehow nostalgic, his smile slightly sad. Silver almost felt bad for interrupting him. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m not a man who actually keeps in touch with the latest technologies. Could you tell me what a BL100 looks like or what is it programmed for?”

Mr. Bonny nodded. Then he got up and took a portrait from a side table. He sat down again and passed it to Silver. On the picture, there were Mr. Bonny himself and a young-looking woman, whom he assumed was the BL100. She was white, had long red hair and blue eyes.

Anne Bonny was smiling happily on the photo, and all the adjectives Silver could find to describe her were _sweet_ and _warm_. She and James Bonny looked like a couple that could easily appear on commercials. 

John was having difficulties making the link between the person – android – shown on the picture and the responsible for the crime scene in which he currently stood. 

“I believe the commercial description of a BL100 is ‘the perfect partner’. And she was exactly that,” he continued, as Silver observed the portrait, “I know some people are quick to judge the decision of buying an android to be your partner. They say you’re being lazy for not having to go out and get a date as the rest of them, or that you’re bound to wake up one day and realize how unfulfilling it is to not have a _real_ person to share your life with.”

“I myself had many doubts when I decided to acquire Anne. But, well, what can I say? The advertisement gets it right to a fault. I know that saying that after the events of last night may sound stupid, but it is the truth. Anne was nothing but kind, compassionate and selfless. She was a great listener and was always trying to show how much she cared about me with small but sincere gestures. Truth is I _never_ felt unfulfilled or unappreciated with her. I was enough for her, and she was real enough for me.”

He stopped for a moment, taking a sip from a glass of water. Silver could see a single tear trailing down his face before he quickly rubbed his eyes and tilted his head away from him – as if to hide the fact he was on the verge of crying.

Silver cleared his throat.

“I’m truly sorry for what happened, Mr. Bonny.” He waited a moment till the man recomposed himself before carrying on. “Do you think you could walk me through what happened here last night?”

“Sure, sure, absolutely,” Mr. Bonny said, waving a hand in an apologetic way, “I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“Well, I just wanted to make you understand why what happened has taken me completely by surprise, how there was no indication whatsoever that my Anne was capable of such a thing. Except I guess she was.” He contemplated the splashed blood on the wall for a moment, then he cleared his throat. “Last night, I was working late, so I got home only by nine o’clock. I found Anne sat on the sofa, waiting for me, which was a bit odd, as she would normally be in the kitchen cooking when I arrived. Then I noticed she was somehow restless, and, when she spoke to me, she sounded angry and a bit paranoid.”

“What did she say to you?” 

“She asked me where I’d been. And then she called me a liar when I told her the truth – that I’d been working late. Apparently, she thought I was seeing someone else.”

“Not that it changes the gravity of her actions, but were you seeing someone else?” John asked.

James Bonny scoffed.

“No, of course not, even though I know I was _allowed_ to – she is my android after all, and we’re not married or anything. But, as I’ve told you, I used to see my relationship with her as a real one, and I took it seriously. So, no, I’ve never cheated on her.” 

“Alright” Silver nodded. “I hope you understand I meant you no disrespect by asking that – we just need to get all the details right.”

“I know, it’s just that I’m still bothered by the fact she could actually think that of me. She’d never expressed similar suspicions. But anyway, I explained to her why I’d had to work late, what I’d been doing in the office, and finally got her to calm down. It seemed to work, but I noticed she wasn’t quite herself for the rest of the night. Nevertheless, I had dinner, took a shower, and then we watched a movie before going to bed. By then, I thought everything had resolved itself,” he sighed heavily, closing his eyes. “Then she woke me up in the middle of the night. She had a magazine in her hand – it contained an article about the new AP700 which I was reading the other day. It was only then that I realized she must have thought I was going to replace her.”

“Again, I need to ask if that had been your intention.”

“No, the article appealed to me because I’m in need of complementing my office staff. Replacing her has never crossed my mind, and I told her exactly that, but she ran into the living-room, yelling and calling me a liar. I followed her, but by that moment I was genuinely scared. I had never seen she act like this, she seemed violent. And I had the unfortunate idea of telling her that we would sort this out in the morning, we would see what was wrong with her software,” he exhaled as he said it. “That was when she got the kitchen knife.”

John realized Mr. Bonny’s hands were slightly shaking again as he reached the glass in front of him and took another sip of water.

“Before last night, I would never have considered her as capable of such violence. But she wasn’t thinking straight, and I was too scared by that point. I approached her, trying to get the knife, and then she just-,” he shivered as he said the next words, “She just struck me, just like that. I mean, it was so _easy_ for her attacking me. And I don’t want to think much about it, but I know – I _know_ – that if I hadn’t moved at that moment, she would have got my neck instead of my shoulder.”

“Did you defend yourself in any way? Was she damaged when she escaped?”

“Yes, I did. By that point, I was just trying to stay alive, you know? I pushed her against the wall after she stabbed me. She hit her head, and I could get ahold of the knife. Then she came at me, and we fell to the floor, but I managed to stab her in the abdomen. That was what finally made her stop – and what saved my life, I believe –, for after that she got up and ran out of the apartment. That was the last I saw of her. And it was a while before I could get up and call the police.”

There was a moment of silence as he finished his statement. By then, Silver was making some notes in a small block of papers he carried around. He looked up for a moment and noticed a weird expression on the corner of James Bonny’s eyes as they looked at him. John couldn’t explain what bothered him about that look, but it disappeared after a second, and Mr. Bonny was back to looking down and slightly shivering.

“Well, thank you for your statement, Mr. Bonny. We will do everything we can to find her and figure out what happened.” He closed his note block and put it away in the pocket of his coat. “Just one more thing – to your knowledge, is there somewhere or someone she could have run to in search of shelter?”

Silver noticed as a knowing look suddenly passed through the man’s eyes.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he started, “But now that you’ve mentioned it, yes, there’s a man – his name is Jack Rackham. He was an acquaintance of mine who came to a couple of parties I threw last year. He took a _particular_ interest in Anne if I remember correctly. At first, I thought it was merely a professional curiosity, as he used to work at CyberLife, and Anne was then a new model. But I’ll say that sometimes the way he talked and acted around her made me question if there wasn’t something else there. And Anne, well, she was lovely and kind to everyone, but she did seem a bit taken aback when Rackham stopped coming to the parties after we had a few heated arguments.”

“And do you happen to have an address for this Jack Rackham?”

James Bonny shook his head. 

“No, I mean, I do know where he used to live, but he moved out after he lost his job and couldn’t afford the place any longer. It’s been almost a year, I’m afraid I have no idea where he is living by now.”

“It’s fine. We will run his name through the system and find out his current address. You’ve been a great help to this case, Mr. Bonny, thank you.” Silver got up, and the man did the same. “Now, before you see yourself thoroughly free of my presence, I would like to take a look in the other rooms, if it’s okay with you. Maybe there is something that can help us understand Anne a little bit better and predict her decisions with more precision.”

“Absolutely,” Mr. Bonny said, walking to the entrance of a corridor which led to the rest of the apartment and making a gesture as if calling Silver to join him. “I’ll walk you through it.”

Silver nodded, following James Bonny. When they entered the corridor, however, they found Flint was already there. The android was still, with his back against the wall. He was facing an open door in front of him.

In sight of the strange scene, Mr. Bonny slowed his pace and John pushed past him. He threw a quick look inside the room in question and found nothing amiss. It looked like a small bedroom/studio. There was a piano in one corner and an armchair with crochet in another. Everything was neat and clean.

He frowned, looking back at Flint and finding his LED spinning yellow. He wished to ask what was wrong when Mr. Bonny reached them, taking a contemplative look inside the room. 

“This was her studio,” he said, before Silver had a chance to say anything, “Anne loved this room. She would spend most of her time in here.”

He turned around, and Silver followed his eyes as he looked at Flint with a confused expression.

“Is everything alright with your ‘state of the art’ android?” he asked, and John was a bit annoyed at the hint of sarcasm in his comment. There was also that strange look in his eyes yet again, which John still couldn’t identify.

“Yes, everything is fine. Thank you for your concern,” Silver said, wishing his own annoyance wasn’t too transparent to Mr. Bonny. “You may show me the rest of the apartment.”

James Bonny nodded, and they moved on, leaving Flint behind. The rest of the rooms were similar to the studio – they all looked clean, and nothing in them caught Silver’s attention. When they headed back the way they came, they found Flint standing at the open door to Anne’s studio.

Silver made his best not to look concerned. Then he threw what he hoped was an apologetic smile at Mr. Bonny. 

“I’m going to talk to him, Mr. Bonny. You can go back to the living-room, we’ll meet you there in a moment.”

James Bonny stopped briefly, seeming momentarily uncertain. Then he nodded and resumed his walk, leaving Flint and Silver alone in the studio. 

Silver approached Flint cautiously, as though he didn’t want to interrupt whatever was going on in his head. He noticed then that his LED was spinning red. 

“What was the story?” Flint suddenly asked, breaking the silence, and making John push back slightly in surprise. His voice sounded deeper somehow, unlike the amiable tone he normally used. 

Silver made a quick sum-up of James Bonny’s statement. Flint nodded. 

“Now will you tell me what is going on?” Silver said, a bit exasperated, “I mean, earlier you were irresponsive, but now you just look gloomy and little bit scary, if I’m being honest.”

Flint sighed and turned his eyes to him. The Lieutenant was a bit taken aback by how intense they were just then. John had got used to the detached approach the android would have towards everything. But now there were a lot of things in his eyes – and they were all personal.

He’d never seen Flint like this. Something deep within him burned. 

“It is possible that Mr. Bonny is lying,” he said.

“So, you’ve found something?” Silver asked, looking around and trying to identify what could possibly have caught Flint’s attention in that room. “Is it something is this room? Because I can see nothing suspicious.” 

“Do you know what Thirium is, Lieutenant?” 

“It’s a vital component to androids, isn’t it?” Silver answered, remembering the few articles he’d read on the previous week.

“Yes, it is. It’s the major constituent of what humans call ‘blue blood’, android blood,” Flint carried on, “You see, the thing with Thirium is that, once it’s exposed to air for a few hours, it evaporates, and thus is no longer visible. However, it leaves behind a residue which my scanners can identify. I found some traces of it in the living-room, and they seem to back up Mr. Bonny’s account of the android’s injuries.”

“Well, okay, but what’s wrong then?” Silver said, feeling that uneasiness growing to an almost unbearable degree.

“There are Thirium residues all around this room.”

As he said those words, even though Silver couldn’t grasp their meaning at first, he felt his stomach drop.

“It’s on the armchair, floor, walls,” Flint continued, “Some are as recent as one week old, but the oldest go back months. Based only on the residues, it was a bit difficult to run reconstructions, but I was able to complete enough of them to have a picture of what happened here.”

Silver already knew what Flint was going to say, but even then, he felt himself asking, “And what have you found?”

“He damaged her, so badly as to make her lose Thirium. Maybe he beat her with an object, maybe he used his bare hands – I wasn’t able to identify that much. But the fact is that android was repeatedly beaten for at least six months,” he finished, still looking at the room with somber eyes.

Silver’s hand closed into a fist as he remembered the way James Bonny had described his apparent loving relationship with Anne. Then, as he looked at Flint’s red LED, he was suddenly taken by an urge of leading him away from that room.

“I’m going to confront him about it. You can go and wait for me outside,” Silver finally said, turning around as to leave the room.

He felt as Flint’s hand grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t,” Flint said, “We will write it in our reports. It’s all we can do.”

Silver scoffed.

“What do you mean?” he said, suddenly angry at Flint’s passiveness.

“It won’t do any good,” Flint finally said, the collectedness of his words contrasting the fire in his eyes. “It isn’t a crime, Lieutenant. She’s his property, he can do to her whatever he pleases.”

After a while, Silver exhaled, averting his eyes from Flint’s, and accepting his argument. He contemplated the neat room in front of them. It disgusted him.

“Are you alright?” Silver finally asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Flint answered. His LED was still a spinning red, but Silver didn’t push that line of inquiry.

“I’m not sure I _want_ to find Anne Bonny now, but I suppose it is our job. We’ve got a lead to follow,” Silver said, meaning Jack Rackham. 

Flint nodded.

Then Silver reached out and made an attempt of leading him out of the room. He expected resistance, but, as John touched his arm, Flint let himself be driven away. 

As they walked back, he noticed the LED on the android’s temple had turned yellow. He didn’t let go of his arm until they entered the living-room.

When they headed out of the apartment, Silver’s eyes locked briefly with Mr. Bonny’s. There, he found that same look as before, but now he could identify what it was.

It was the arrogant confidence of a man who knows his own invulnerability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The plot thickens_ :)
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Please, let me know what you think!
> 
> And as usual, thank you for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you’ve enjoyed the story so far <3
> 
> And please, let me know what you think!


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